Good Intentions
by PJ in NH
Summary: Malcolm gives Hoshi a Holiday gift...it's a surprise for her...and him. Three years ago people asked for a third chapter. Merry Christmas…here it is.
1. Default Chapter

Title: Good Intentions Contact: kelhapam@metrocast.net Series: ENT Rating: PG-13 Code: R/S Part: 1/2 NEW Date: December 3, 2002  
  
Summary: Malcolm gives Hoshi a Holiday gift...it's a surprise for her...and him.  
  
Disclaimer: Paramount owns all the characters, etc., I am just using the characters for a little fun and relaxation.  
  
Note of Appreciation. Special thanks to my beta readers: Valorie, Tex, Ronda, and P.J. Sutherland  
  
Posting: Please notify me before you do.  
  
Good Intentions  
  
12/03/02 (Revised 12/13/03)  
  
Standing under a torn canopy to avoid the daily afternoon deluge of rain, Malcolm withdrew a carefully folded slip of paper from his pocket and looked at it again. Nothing had changed since the last several times he'd looked at it. All the other items on the list had been checked off. But the last item remained unchecked. This would be his last opportunity to take care of that stubborn task and to get down to the planet before they broke orbit.  
  
Time was rapidly running out.  
  
A week ago, when the crew learned it would be visiting Xeleedia, Liz Cutler had come up with a plan to help boost crew morale by having a small holiday party on the ship. She had arranged for each member of the crew to provide a small gift for another member by drawing names. Malcolm had been reluctant to go along with this celebration, but the Captain had insisted the senior staff comply to set a good example for the rest of the crew. As such, he had dutifully put his hand into the basket and was surprised to pull out Hoshi Sato's name. He'd hoped to select some innocuous crewmember, but instead drew the name of someone on the ship he dearly didn't want to disappoint. And now, near the end of their last day on the planet, it looked like that was exactly what was going to happen.  
  
This was the eighth or ninth shop Malcolm had stopped at this afternoon on the Xeleedian homeworld, which boasted the "Largest Shopping District in Five Star Sectors," and those didn't even count the myriad of other stores he had visited yesterday. He'd never been a shopper, choosing instead to resort to the age-old standby of giving his family and friends gift certificates when the season rolled around. But this time opting for the easy way out was out of the question. It wasn't like they were going to find a Xeleedian chain store on Risa or Vulcan.  
  
Standing outside the door of a rundown store, he was loathe to leave what little shelter the canopy provided to venture across the wide open plaza and into yet another more prosperous store. Figuring he had nothing to lose, he decided to enter the old shop. The door creaked with protest as Malcolm opened it, further testimony as to the age of the establishment.  
  
Upon entry, the mustiness of the interior assailed his senses. Malcolm Reed was thankful he'd recently received his allergy booster, otherwise he'd be sneezing up a storm to rival the one outside. Looking around, he noted a great number of old books which lined many meters of wooden shelves from floor to ceiling.  
  
"Can I help you, young man?"  
  
Malcolm turned to find a grizzled old gentleman approaching him. The stout man was approximately a meter and a half tall and had a long white beard which covered the purple mottling all Xeleedians had on their chins. He was dressed in worn brown trousers and a long-sleeved bright red shirt. He also wore the thick white gloves which all Xeleedians Malcolm had met, seemed to wear. The Tactical Officer couldn't help but think he looked like a miniature version of Father Christmas.  
  
"Actually, I'm searching for a gift. I'm not sure if you can help."  
  
"Of course I can help!" the old man said extending his arms wide. I have many books which might suit your needs." Then he stopped abruptly and dropped his arms. "The recipient of the gift can read can't he?"  
  
"Oh yes, *she* can read very well, in many different languages," Malcolm reassured the shopkeeper with pride. "She's an accomplished linguist."  
  
The old man beamed, his smile wide and welcoming. "Well, well, you've come to the right place. Do you know what she likes to read? What her interests are?"  
  
"Actually I'm not really sure. I serve on the same ship with her, but I don't know that much about her other than she likes languages." "You know nothing else?" he asked incredulously, as he removed one of the white gloves. Approaching the Tactical Officer, he poked Malcolm in the chest with his now bare finger. "How long have you served on your ship with this woman?"  
  
"Um...over a year in our time, actually almost a year and a half. I'm not sure how that would translate into Xeleedian standards."  
  
"It sounds like a long time," the old man said, still keeping his finger on Malcolm's chest. "You like this woman?"  
  
"Like her?"  
  
"You know, do you *like* her?" The man cocked his head to one side as if addressing a slow-witted child.  
  
"Of course I like her," Malcolm assured him.  
  
The old man closed his eyes, his finger still in place on Malcolm's torso.  
  
"Sir?" Malcolm asked after several moments had passed, thinking the man had fallen asleep standing up.  
  
The old eyes snapped open and quickly he removed his hand put on his glove. "You *do* like her. More than like. Yes, yes. I see now!" The old gray head nodded up and down and removed his finger from the armory officer's torso.  
  
"Sir?" Malcolm rubbed at the spot on his chest the old man had touched. For some reason, it seemed to tingle.  
  
"You say that a lot don't you?"  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"This 'sir'."  
  
Malcolm shrugged. "Habit and training I'm afraid, and I don't know your name." The younger man crossed his arms across his chest. "How should I address you?"  
  
"Oh, you can call me 'San-clus'," he said with a shrug. "Everyone does."  
  
Malcolm nodded.  
  
"Now tell me, think back, what does this lady like, besides languages? Maybe she has a hobby? Did she ever mention one?"  
  
"Not that I recall," he said with a shake of his head.  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Well she likes animals," Malcolm replied. "She did become quite attached to a slug once, and she does seem fond of the Captain's beagle."  
  
"Maybe something that she mentioned to you once, maybe when you were um...perhaps dining?" The man's eyes were bright, his mouth open, waiting for his customer to supply him with the information he needed.  
  
"Hmmm. Once, when we were eating a meal together, she did mention that she liked to cook."  
  
"That's it! The very thing! What you need is a cookbook!" San-clus waved his arms excitedly and he moved away from Malcolm and towards the back of the store.  
  
The Brit followed in his wake. "A cookbook, are you sure?" It didn't seem like much of a gift to him. Not when he wanted to make sure he was getting her something as special as he felt she deserved.  
  
"Not just any cookbook, my young man, but a very unique cookbook. One which she will always treasure."  
  
"But it's just a cookbook, and she's..."  
  
San-clus turned to face the lieutenant, his eyes wide. "Yes? She's what?"  
  
"Well, she deserves the best."  
  
"And if you get her this book, she'll have the best. Trust me, I've never steered anyone wrong. I've been in this business for a very, very long time. Everyone comes back to San-clus and thanks me for my advice and for the gifts they purchase."  
  
"Well if you insist." Malcolm sounded unsure, but he was desperate, he had to report back to the shuttle soon. "Besides, I'm running out of time, I have to be back on the ship before the next work shift."  
  
The old man continued his trek back through the stacks. "It was fated that you come here. And here," he pointed up to one of the shelves above his head, at a old, leather-bound tome. "is the very book you need and deserve."  
  
"I think you'll need a ladder," Malcolm suggested looking up at the shelf in question.  
  
"No ladder, I have you. You look strong. Just give me a boost up on your shoulders and I'll bring it down. I do it all the time."  
  
Malcolm had no option, either let the man crawl up on his shoulders, or go back to the ship empty handed. Bending down, he let the man swing one leg over the back of his neck and he stood up carefully, the man seated on his shoulders, being sure not to lose his balance.  
  
"Move a little further to your left," San-clus suggested. "There, just a little bit more, my friend." Placing one hand against one of the shelves, the old man pulled himself up even higher. Bracing himself against the bookcase with his free hand, he pulled the large cookbook off the shelf with the other and into the safety of his arms.  
  
Slowly Malcolm lowered the man and the book to the floor. Walking back to the front of the store, the Tactical Officer reached into his pocket so he could pay the man with the local currency, which had been provided during a trade of cultural data when the Enterprise crew had first arrived on Xeleedia.  
  
"Keep your money," San-clus insisted with a shake of his head. "Consider this a gift from me to you." Deftly he tied red twine around the book before placing the tome inside a pristine white box. Securing the lid to it with the same red twine, he handed package to Malcolm.  
  
"But..."  
  
"No, I insist. I should not have placed my skin against your body. It made for an unfair transaction. If the Ministry of Marketing were to find out, I could lose my license."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"When I removed my glove and touched you there." The old man once again touched Malcolm on the chest, but this time with his glove on. "I could sense your feelings, that was how I knew what book would be appropriate."  
  
"You read my mind?" Malcolm asked not liking the implications.  
  
"Not really. It's not that complicated. We can't feel anything specific. I can't see anything technical or what you would deem perhaps to be a security risk. It's just a sense of what is right in regards to someone you love. Love knows all." The old man shook his head. "It's hard to explain to an off-worlder."  
  
"I never said I loved her."  
  
The old man smiled fondly and chuckled. "You didn't have to."  
  
Patting Malcolm on the back, San-clus escorted the Tactical Officer out of his shop and into the bright sunshine outside.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
"Blimey, I'll never get this right!" Malcolm balled up another sheet of wrapping paper and tossed it into the recycler. He was in the process of ripping off another piece from the roll of brightly colored paper, when he heard his door chime buzz. Frustrated he dropped the paper and moving to the door pressed the release button.  
  
"What can I do for... Oh, Ensign Cutler, I'm sorry, I thought it was..."  
  
"No need to apologize, Lieutenant. I was just checking up that you are all set for the festivities tonight."  
  
"Well I have the gift, but I'm having a problem wrapping the bloody thing." He dragged his fingers through his hair. "I can make a bed in my sleep which can pass military inspection, but I've never been very good at wrapping presents." He looked down at the white box on the table as if it were an alien invader.  
  
"Look, I know you have to go on duty shortly, right?"  
  
Malcolm nodded.  
  
"Why don't you give it to me, and I'll wrap it up all pretty and make sure it's there this evening in time for the party."  
  
"I'd appreciate that, but do you have the time?"  
  
"I'll make the time. Don't worry, I'll take care of everything."  
  
"You're a life saver."  
  
She shook her head. "Naw, I'm just trying to make sure everything is perfect for tonight. After all this was my idea."  
  
"I just hope Hoshi will like my gift," Malcolm said as he walked back to the table to pick up the box. "The man at the bookstore assured me she would, but I don't know. It's just a cookbook." He passed the package to Liz Cutler along with the wrapping paper and ribbon.  
  
"It's important to you, isn't it?"  
  
"Excuse me? I don't follow."  
  
"The gift, Lieutenant. It's important to you that she like the gift."  
  
"Why of course it is. Everyone should receive something they like, shouldn't they?"  
  
"That's not exactly what I meant. I mean, you are especially concerned that Hoshi will like what you got her."  
  
He nodded--carefully not exactly sure what Liz meant.  
  
She took a step forward and lowered her voice. "I mean, you care about her."  
  
Did everyone know? "I never said..."  
  
Cutler smiled softly and touched Malcolm's arm with her free hand. "You didn't need to. You see, I'm very observant."  
  
Malcolm shook his head and turned away from the ensign running his hand down the back of his neck. "Oh hell, am I that obvious?"  
  
"Relax, Lieutenant. I'm sure no one else noticed a thing. I just happen to be rather sensitive to people's feelings. Did you notice Chef had his eye on Rebecca Sims in Engineering for three whole months before he asked her out?"  
  
He turned towards her. "Can't say I have."  
  
"See, I'm pretty good about this stuff. I could also tell you half a dozen other people on Enterprise who are attracted to someone else on the ship, but I'm circumspect. I know to keep my mouth shut about what I see and hear."  
  
"So my secret is safe with you?" Malcolm asked.  
  
Cutler raised her hand solemnly. "I promise not to say a word."  
  
"I appreciate that."  
  
With a nod and the box and wrapping paper clutched to her chest, Liz left the lieutenant's cabin.  
  
Cutler, exited Malcolm's cabin and returned to her own quarters. Taking the book out of the box, she set it aside with a frown. "I said I wouldn't *say* anything, Malcolm Reed, but that's all I promised." Untying the red twine, Liz removed the lid of the box and took out the cookbook. Reaching under her bed, she withdrew a large brown rectangular basket. Looking through the contents of the basket, Liz withdrew the item she'd been searching for. "She may not like the cookbook, Lt. Reed," she said out loud as she placed her addition to Hoshi's holiday gift in the bottom of the box. "But I'll guarantee she'll like this." Putting the cookbook on top of her addition to Malcolm's gift, she replaced the box lid, retied the twine, and began to wrap it.  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
end part 1 


	2. Part 2

Title: Good Intentions

Series: ENT

Rating: T

Code: R/S

Malcolm was late for the party. Upon arrival he noticed that food had been served, drinks poured, and the gift giving was already underway.

Cutler, upon noticing his entrance, immediately went to his side and passed him a glass of champagne. In keeping with the holiday spirit, she was dressed in a red skirt with a red and white snowflake print top. "We couldn't wait any longer to exchange gifts," she explained to him. "But you haven't missed much."

Malcolm thanked her for the drink and took a sip. "I got delayed in the armory. Couldn't get the torpedo array aligned."

"Well, I've saved you a seat." Cutler led him over to the other side of the room where there was a vacant seat beside Hoshi and next to the rest of the senior staff.

Looking at Cutler he accused her silently of planning the seating arrangement.

"Glad you could join us, Malcolm," Archer said breaking the lieutenant's thought.

The tactical officer noted that Archer was seated between T'Pol and Trip, with Porthos laying on the floor by his feet. "Sorry, I'm late, Sir, but I had to tend to something in the Armory."

"Well yer here now," Trip said. "Have a seat. We are about to see what the Ensign Calloway got T'Pol."

Malcolm nodded to his friend, and looking at Hoshi, took his seat beside her. He made note of the communication officer's bright blue pant suit and how well it complimented her. She looked stunning.

"May I ask what purpose the wrapping of the gifts serves?" T'Pol asked the Captain as he deposited the package onto T'Pol's lap. "It seems a waste of resources to cover something and then just throw it away."

"It's suppose to delay the suspense," Trip explained before Archer could reply. The engineer, his gift of alien cheese clutched in his hands, leaned forward so he could see what item Calloway had selected for the Vulcan. "So you don't see the gift itself until the last possible minute. So whatcha waiting for? Open it up?"

"Why do you care what someone has given me?"

"It's just part of the fun. It's kinda nice to see the look on someone's face when they get something they like. Or try and look like they like a gift when inside really they don't like it at all."

Malcolm wondered if he was referring to the cheese.

T'Pol raised one eyebrow and carefully peeled the tape away from the square package.

"You know, it works out better if you just tear it off," Trip suggested. He reached over to demonstrate.

T'Pol batted the engineer's helpful hand away. "If I must participate in this 'tradition' Commander, I prefer to remove the paper in my own way." She looked pointedly at the engineer.

"Well of course. Just trying to help," he said with a shrug of apology.

Turning back to her task, the Vulcan pulled away the green and blue paper to reveal a white box. Lifting the lid off, she looked inside, pulled out a square white piece of material, and held it up for all to see. "It is a piece of cloth," she declared sounding puzzled.

"I think it's a handkerchief," Trip said. "Actually to be more precise, a white lace, embroidered...um...hankie."

"A hankie?"

"It's for, you know blowing your nose, wiping away tears," Trip explained. "My grandmother always told my sisters that a lady never left home without a clean hankie."

"I will endeavor to remember that. Since I don't cry and seldom have to remove bodily fluids from my nasal cavities, perhaps I can use them to kneel on when I meditate."

"See, now you're thinking!" Trip grinned broadly.

T'Pol glared.

Ensign Cutler smiled and clapped her hands together to break the tension. "Now who's next?" She looked over the boxes which had been placed on a large table and selected one. "This one says to Porthos from Crewman Dale Swartz." Liz knelt down beside the dog and let Porthos sniff at the present, then she passed the gift to the Captain.

"Porthos, you must have been a good dog, to have gotten a present," Archer said and beckoned the dog to place his paws on his lap with a pat on his thigh.

Porthos looked intently the package. His nose twitched trying to smell the contents while his tail wagged happily. Soon Porthos' Papa uncovered a blue and red ball, and the dog's tail wagged even faster.

"If you shake it, Captain, it makes a noise," Crewman Dale Swartz said from her position across the room.

Archer shook the toy and a squeaking sound could be heard and he grinned as Porthos barked.

"And it's non-toxic, safe for dogs. I checked it out with Doctor Phlox and everything!" Dale added.

Porthos reached for the toy with his mouth. Archer teased him with it a short while before he finally let the dog have it.

"I'm sure Porthos will enjoy playing with it," he assured the petite blonde woman. If he could, he'd thank you himself. As he can't, I'll thank you for him." Archer, with a broad grin on his face, looked down affectionately at his pet and scratched Porthos' head. "Good, boy."

Crewman Swartz smiled with satisfaction as Porthos lay back down beside the captain and chewed on his present.

"Ah, I guess we need another present." Cutler passed out another gift, which was followed by another until only two more presents remained on the table.

Selecting the large flat one first, she passed it to Malcolm. "Happy Holidays, Malcolm," Liz said.

The Brit took the package, and reading the tag saw that it was from Hoshi. Looking at the communications officer, he smiled. "You shouldn't have gone to the trouble," he said shyly.

"Believe me, it was my pleasure," Hoshi assured him. "Come on open it, I want to see if you like it."

Malcolm smiled nervously, being self-conscious with everyone looking at him, and tore off the wrapping paper to reveal a framed picture underneath.

Looking it over closely, he admired the craftsmanship. He made note of the man and the woman in the picture. The man had a compact build with dark hair, and the woman's dark shiny tresses fell down to her waist. He noted that they bore some resemblance to he and Hoshi.

"It's beautiful," he finally said.

"When I found it, I knew I had to get it for you," Hoshi explained. "The artist told me it was based on some old Xeleedian folklore. See," she pointed at a figure in the picture, "this is a Xeleedian knight and behind him is his lady. In his hand is a sword and he's trying to protect his lady from the...well I guess it's some type of alien dragon."

The tactical officer continued to examine his gift and gently ran his fingers over the surface to feel the surface of the picture.

"They create these pictures by embedding different minerals into a metal plate. When it is heated, only then are the colors revealed," she explained.

"It's a true work of art," Malcolm declared clearly impressed.

"When the Suliban boarded the ship about six months ago, I had to go to your cabin, remember?"

He nodded, how could he forget.

"When I was there, I noticed that walls of your cabin were rather bare."

And I noticed you were rather bare, he thought. It wasn't every day a beautiful woman showed up at his door half naked. Actually, it had never happened to him before.

"It's lovely. I'll treasure it always."

"I'm so glad you like it" Hoshi smiled warmly. "I was a little worried, you might not care for it."

Malcolm smiled warmly at her allaying her fears.

"And the last gift, for Hoshi Sato," Cutler declared and dropped the heavy rectangular package into Hoshi's hands. Looking at Malcolm, Liz winked at the lieutenant.

"Oh, it's heavy," Hoshi noted and then looked at the gift tag. "Oh, Malcolm, imagine us both drawing the other's name!"

Malcolm stole a look at Liz Cutler. Liz looked back, her lips curled up ever so slightly. So it wasn't an accident! They'd been set up by an expert!

Looking back at Hoshi, Malcolm saw that she had taken off the carefully applied wrapping paper, untied the twine, and was now removing the lid on the box.

"Oh, it's a book!" she exclaimed.

"Actually it's a cookbook," Malcolm said. "If I remember correctly, you once told me you liked to cook."

Hoshi giggled and pushing the red twine aside which was still encircling the cookbook, looked at the book's title. "Oh, I do, but this book isn't your ordinary cookbook. Malcolm, do you know what you purchased? Oh this is just too precious!"

"It's a Xeleedian cookbook. The shopkeeper recommended it himself."

"Well I've been studying their language since we got here. The title says: A Sensual Cookbook: Everything You Need to Know to Prepare a Meal to Catch the Man of Your Dreams."

Malcolm groaned and dropped his head in his hands. He could feel his face was flushed from embarrassment.

Hoshi removed the twine and picking up the book began to thumb through the pages. "Oh my, did you know it was illustrated!?"

"I didn't have time to look inside the book," Malcolm said, his words were muffled by his hands.

"My god, Malcolm, these people must be double-jointed! This is something I'll have to read in more detail. Strictly in terms of cultural understanding, of course."

The Brit groaned again, and snickering could be heard throughout the room.

Hoshi retied the twine around the book and started to place the book back in the box when she noticed some white fabric that had been placed beneath the cookbook. Tucking the book under her arm, she withdrew the white material. Holding it up, she could see it was a long white negligee made of a very fine white fabric which was almost see-through with delicate soft pink embroidery decorating the low neckline. Her mouth formed an 'O' as she admired the nightgown.

"Ah gee, Malcolm, I always thought you'd be one who'd like his woman dressed in leather," Trip snickered.

Trip's comment caused Malcolm to look up. Upon seeing the garment held between Hoshi's fingers and the look of awe on her face, he dropped his head back down into his hands. "I didn't...I don't know how...I'm so sorry..." Malcolm muttered. He prayed when he looked up again he'd find this had been all a dream.

"Don't listen to Trip, Malcolm," Hoshi placed a hand on his shoulder. "I think it's beautiful."

"I'll get you something else as soon as I can," Malcolm vowed. He removed his hands from his face but he refused to look at the other people in the room, instead choosing to focus his gaze on the floor. "Anything you want." Just please let me go back to my quarters and die. Well after I lock Cutler in her cabin for the duration of this voyage.

Leaning toward the Brit, Hoshi placed a soft kiss on his cheek, but before she moved back, she whispered in his ear. "Anything I want, Malcolm?"

"Anything, Hoshi," he whispered.

"My place, midnight, and don't be late."


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Good Intentions

Series: ENT

Rating: T

Code: R/S

Part: 3/3 NEW

Summary: Malcolm gives Hoshi a Holiday gift...it's a surprise for her...and him. Three years ago people asked for a third chapter. Merry Christmas…here it is.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns all the characters, etc., I am just using the characters for a little fun and relaxation.

Note of Appreciation. Special thanks to my beta reader: Kathy Rose

Posting: Please notify me before you do.

Good Intentions

12/24/06

He didn't know just why he was here at this hour. Oh, he'd dreamed of this moment. The dream sometimes took on many different variations.

One time he was a pirate and she was the exotic beauty he had captured in waters far away from the coast of his native England. She was dressed in a beautiful crimson kimono, her dark, shiny hair falling away from an elaborate coiffure. He -- attired rakishly in black and gold -- approached the cabin where she was being held and drew her into his arms. Pressing his body against hers, she surrendered to his advances and let Malcolm draw her into her bed and …well that's when he woke up.

Malcolm sighed and leaned against the wall of the corridor, hoping it was late enough that no one would find him outside Hoshi Sato's quarters.

Another night, he had a dream which involved him seated against a dark steed clad in shiny silver armor. He was on a mysterious mission for his lord and had ridden his destrier into a deep dark forest. Before long, a purple miasma engulfed him and he was soon transported from the forest to a serene glade full of sweetly scented coral-colored flowers. Urging his horse forward through the sea of blossoms, he found Hoshi seated amongst the flowers strumming a golden harp. Looking up at him, she beckoned him forward and just as he slid off his horse and removed his helmet, he was rudely jarred awake by a red alert.

Turning away from her door he took two steps away from temptation before he turned his head and looked over his shoulder at her door again.

There had been many more nights. Nights full of plots and promise. Brief visions of them laying together and enjoying each other's company. All of the dreams had been the same in some respects. He was gallant and confident, she welcoming and encouraging.

And each had been abruptly, maddeningly interrupted just before...

It wasn't going to happen this time, Malcolm vowed, and throwing his shoulders back and raising his chin, he made his decision. Walking to her door, Malcolm resolutely pressed the pad of his thumb against Hoshi's doorbell.

Without a word of welcome, the door slid open to reveal a darkened interior. Stepping forward, Malcolm let the door slide shut behind him, plunging him into the room's ebony darkness.

"I didn't think you'd come," Hoshi said softly.

He couldn't see her, but turned his head towards the sound of her voice.

"I almost didn't," he admitted. "But this isn't quite how I imagined it would happen."

"I know, me either, but I'm glad you came. I've been wishing for this for a very long time, I just didn't know how to make it happen."

"I've always been attracted to you, Hoshi." He tried to peer through the darkness but couldn't see her.

"I've felt the same." With a click, Hoshi turned on a ship-approved electronic candle and she stepped forward. The candle's glow revealed her silhouette beneath her Christmas negligee, leaving little to the imagination.

Malcolm, his confidence gone, cleared his throat nervously.

"You look nervous. Perhaps you wish you hadn't accepted my invitation?" she asked.

Not being able to find his voice, he shook his head.

"Maybe you don't like your gift?" she asked, running her fingertips along delicate embroidery which adorned the low-cut neckline and trailing them down over her transparent material which fell lightly over her lithe body.

"I-I didn't…" he stammered. He could feel the heat rise in his face in direct proportion which each step Hoshi took towards him. Gone was his earlier bravado which had allowed him to enter her cabin.

"You don't like it?" she purred.

Again he shook his head. ""N-no, it's n-not that. It's beautiful. You're b-beautiful."

Closing the distance, Hoshi stood in front of him. Tilting her head to one side, she encircled his neck with her arms.

Clearing his throat again, he spoke again. "What I mean is I didn't purchase your nightgown."

"You don't mean to say you stole it?" she asked, looking both intrigued and concerned.

"Oh, no. What I mean is I bought the book, but I didn't know anything about this." He looked down at the nightgown, but instead focused on the body beneath the sheer material and began to sweat. "I think Ensign Cutler added it to the package. Actually, I didn't even know just what the book contained either."

"Then why did you buy the book?" Her voice was like silk to his ears.

"Well it was recommended by the p-proprietor of this bookshop – a rather elfish looking man. He was very friendly and seemed convinced that you'd enjoy the cookbook."

Hoshi pressed herself up against Malcolm's body and whispered in his ear. "Next thing you'll be telling me he had a white beard and a red suit," Hoshi teased with a light laugh.

Malcolm wrapped his arms around her waist. "Actually he did have a white beard and did wear a red shirt."

"Sounds like Santa Claus." Hoshi said each word very slowly against his ear. "He was always reported to select the perfect gift." She punctuated the last word with a long lick around Malcolm's ear. Reaching up she seized the zipper to his uniform and pulled it down.

"Hoshi?"

"Hmmmm." She languidly pulled the top of Malcolm's uniform down off his shoulders to reveal he hadn't bothered to wear his blue undershirt.

"I've dreamed of this – you and me together." His former nervousness had been replaced with a single-minded goal – seduction and convincing Hoshi of his love and devotion. Moving his hands from her waist, he pushed the nightgown off her shoulders and let it fall soundlessly to the floor.

She ran a hand over his chest.

"But I always wake up before I get to the ending," he admitted. Lowering his head, he pressed his mouth against her neck and kissed her passionately.

"I promise you there'll be no sleeping tonight, Malcolm." Lifting her head from his shoulder, she allowed her mouth to be captured.

Hoshi's hands grasped his uniform where it still clung low on his waist and, dropping to her knees, pulled it off to land on the floor beside her nightgown.

"Planning on trying out a recipe or two from your new cookbook?" he asked, looking down upon her upturned face. The candle's glow revealed the sensual hunger in Hoshi's dark eyes.

"Perhaps later, first I have a few recipes of my own I want you to try." She smiled and licked her lips provocatively with a promise of the pleasures to come.

"I always wanted to taste your homecooking."

"We'll taste that and much more."

"Hoshi?"

"Yes?"

"Merry Christmas."

"And I think we'll have a Happy New Year," she said and proceeded to demonstrate to Malcolm just how well she could cook.


End file.
